


You Lie Careless

by drunknpylades



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, boys refusing to talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunknpylades/pseuds/drunknpylades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Adele, Porthos confronts Aramis about what's been going on. He knows something isn't right and Aramis has never been particularly good at lying to him.</p>
<p>Or Porthos knows more than he's letting on and Aramis is being an emotionally constipated child. For good reason of course, but things have to come to a head eventually. Athos and D'Artagnan just hope they aren't in the blast zone when everything blows up in their faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Lie Careless

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly inspired by a piece of art [kaciart](kaciart.tumblr.com) did during a livestream a few days ago. If you haven't seen her stuff you definitely need to check it out.
> 
> Title from Liar by Mumford and Sons
> 
> No beta so all mistakes are my own. Let me know if anything sticks out. I own nothing.

 

 

The hands on his shoulders feel more like a steel yoke instead of the comforting weight they usually are. Aramis is at once plagued with the dual urges of turning to flea and baring his soul to his oldest friend.

"Aramis?"

There had been a slight tremor throughout Aramis' limbs since he'd read Adele's name carved into that cold stone. 

_Adele Bessette. She died for love._

Had she died alone? Had she known what was coming for her? Had she known why? The tremor now seemed to take over his every muscle. His body tense and shaking under the implication that once again someone had died for the simple sin of loving him. Isabelle had been more than enough for one lifetime, and now this.

He knew Porthos could feel the change in him because those big hands clamped down tighter.

"Aramis!"

They'd be drawing attention soon. Standing in the middle of the garrison as they were. So it was with a herculean effort that Aramis forced himself to look up. Focusing on a point just over Porthos' left ear -he could never look him in the eye and lie. Not to Porthos- and smiled, hoping his face wouldn't actually crack with the falseness of it.

Before he could even open his mouth on some made up platitude Arams knew he'd been caught out.

A storm swept over Porthos' face. Dark eyes going even darker with anger and concern, jaw tightening as his lips drew into a hard line of distaste.

"Don't do that."

Aramis was proud of how his fool's smile didn't falter in the slightest. "Porthos I have no idea what you're talking about." He lifted a hand and waved it about for a moment to disguise the trembling in his fingers before patting at the larger man's bicep. "Now I do believe there is a glass somewhere with my name on it. Maybe even some fine company if I'm-"

"Aramis!" Porthos roared.

Nothing could have hidden the way he flinched, trying to rear back from that frustration and barely concealed worry. Porthos was fairly brimming with it. Aramis could feel the potential for violence locked away just underneath the other Musketeer's skin. Could feel it writhing just beneath the surface as those hands clenched and unclenched on his shoulders.

"Don't you even think about it." Porthos said. His voice like thunder. Low and harsh and promising one hell of a storm should Aramis say the wrong thing. "Don't you go hidin' behind your fake smile and your charm. Not with me."

The air around them seemed to shift. Tense like the feeling just before lightning strikes. Like the world holding its breath as it waits to see where the damage will be done.

"Something's been wrong for a while now and I'm sick of waiting for you to come to me. What's going on with you?"

 The anger, when it comes, is white hot. Burning through his veins as sure as any fire. Aramis was only human. A man slaved to his emotions. The anger took hold like the sea taking control of a ship. His previous state of shocked silence was wrested from him and replaced with fury.

How dare he. How dare Porthos demand answers from him as if he was somehow owed them. Aramis owed him nothing. Least of all this. This was piece of himself that he didn't dare show the world. A tiny, vulnerable thing behind his ribs like a chick left alone and defenseless in its nest. No one could have it. Not even Porthos. Good, loyal, steadfast Porthos. Did he truly think that Aramis would just bare himself simply because the man had always been there?Was that the cost of his friendship? Did he think he deserved it because they were comrades? Because they were friends?

A laugh bubbled up from some dark place inside himself. A parody of the sound leaking from between his clenched teeth.

"You think you get to demand answers from me? What? Because you feel entitled to them?" Aramis asked. His voice hissed out of him like smoke. He struck out, only succeeding in knocking Porthos' hands away because of the shock he could see splashed across the man's face.

"What? That's not.. I didn't-" Porthos stuttered. Tongue tripping over his words in a haste to make amends.

Aramis made that sound again. The laugh that wasn't anything like a laugh. More like stones grinding together in his mouth. Panic and rage and grief were all clawing at his throat. Clamoring for a way out. There was the sting of tears in his eyes and he blinked furiously in an effort to banish them.

"My thoughts and emotions are my own." Aramis sucked in a breath, The air turned hot in his lungs and escaped him like fire, burning his lips and tongue as the scathing words poured out. "They are not some attraction or play that you can pull out and examine at will, or simply ask to be privy to. You are not my wife, nor even my lover to demand explanations when you are owed none."

Porthos reared back as if struck. His body tight in what Aramis belatedly recognized as hurt. There was anger as well, an anger that Aramis could swirling just beneath the surface. Porthos had struck many men for less.

Not for the first time since this had began Aramis cursed his ability to read his fellow Musketeer. The insight was like a double edged sword. He knew exactly where to aim his barbs, but every landed blow was turned back on him when he saw the big man flinch away.

It took only a moment for that tense hurt to bleed away into the promise of violence. When he spoke again, Porthos' voice was like steel. "Now I'm gonna let that slide because you're hurtin', but I will not stand quietly while a man insults me. Even if that man is you."

Aramis scoffed. "How gracious of you."

One hand settled on the hilt of his sword and Porthos entire demeanor changed. Feet shifting in the dirt and preparing for the fight that the conversation seemed to headed towards. "You forget, Porthos, that I do not need your permission or approval to do anything."

Without meaning to Aramis' mind called up all the times he'd gone to Porthos for advice. All the times his friend had tried to steer him away from a decision that would inevitably lead to heartbreak.

_Set your sights a little lower_

_She's the mistress of the most powerful man in France_

It was too much.

He choked on his own breath.

"Adele is dead."

It was the first time he'd said the words aloud and they were like ice in his veins.

"Adele is dead and I-" he hesitated, words stumbling over themselves in his mouth before he managed to spit them out. Voice barely above a whisper. "I killed her."

It wasn't even close to everything he wanted to say. It wasn't even everything he  _should_ have said, but it was all he was going to divulge. His last secret, his Anne, his  _son_ were not secrets he could bring to light. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Those would have to be pried from him like confession of sins. Ripped from him kicking and screaming. It would have to be a far more private setting. Not here in the middle of this place they both thought of as home.

If Aramis was going to set fire to one of the last good things in his life -if he still had it after all this- he was going to do it on his own terms.

Porthos moved at the edge of his vision. A hand reaching out for him. Whether in peace or anger Aramis would never know. He turned promptly on his heel and fled. By complete coincidence he met both Athos and D'Artagnan's eyes as he turned. 

Resigned disappointment and stunned disbelief stared back at him. His eyes burned and his cheeks flared with embarrassment. It had been too much to hope they had gone without Porthos and himself. Now there were two more friends he'd let down. No matter how much they'd been witness to, it was too much.

It occurred to him as he all but ran from the garrison and the pleading calls of his name that he'd never once looked Porthos in the eye.

 

\--

 

Athos watched Porthos rock back on his feet. He wondered idly if the big man was simply going to fall over in his shock.

"Athos..." D'Artagnan's stunned whisper t his side drew his gaze away from his precariously balanced comrade.

He made an inquiring sound, only turning his head far enough to see D'Artagnan clearly while keeping Porthos in his line of sight. In case he actually did lose the strength to stand.

"Should we go after him?"

Athos actually gave it some thought, but with Aramis' current state of mind they were more likely to face the barrel of a pistol than a conversation. "I don't think that would be wise at the moment." He replied. "I believe Aramis just needs a moment to come to terms with a few things."

"Who was Adele?"

Porthos took a stumbling step forward and Athos turned back towards him in case his assistance was needed. Fortunately the Musketeer seemed to get himself under control. His eyes darted wildly around the mostly empty garrison to land on D'Artagnan and Athos. The pupils were blown wide and even from the distance he stood at Athos could see the shock and confusion bleeding across his face.

Athos inclined his head and Porthos returned the gesture with a firm nod. He watched as Porthos seemed to find his feet again, gathering his courage before charging out of the garrison as well. Like a hound that had caught a scent. He'd do what needed to be done.

"Athos?"

"Adele Bessette was one of Aramis' former lovers." Athos said formally. It was not his secret to give but he'd had far too much of secrets and there was no real harm in this one. Aramis had, after all, announced it himself just moments ago. "Unfortunately she was also the Cardinal's mistress. Months ago she disappeared. Gone to stay at the Cardinal's country estate. Or so we were led to believe. It had seemed as if she had made her choice, but that was not the case." Athos could see the wheels in D'Artagnan's mind spinning as he came to the conclusion on his own.

"He found out." D'Artagnan's voice was little more than a breath on the air. Athos felt a twist of pride a the boy's quick reasoning. "The Cardinal found out about the affair and had her killed for it, didn't he?"

Athos nodded. He didn't remember much about the woman. Only quick overt glances and the things Aramis himself had told them. The man had been smitten. It was sad to discover that a woman he'd barely known could have such on impact on his life now. Had he known of her importance then he might have...

No.

He would have done exactly has he had. Aramis' well being would always come before some faceless woman. Even though Aramis was hurting now, he would push through. And he wouldn't be alone. 

All for one, right?

"He did. Aramis and I only found out about her last night."

"Why didn't he say anything?" D'Artagnan demanded. "Why didn't you?"

"It was not my story to tell at the time. Aramis keeps the things he holds most dear close to the chest."

"That may be, but I would have at least expected him to tell Porthos. They are very close, are they not?"

On of Athos' eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. He knew exactly what D'Artagnan was insinuating. He wouldn't even have been the first one to do so. This was a subject on which it was definitely not his place to speak.

"Aramis and Porthos are as they have always been. What they do and do not tell each other is no business of ours."

D'Artagnan looked as if he would argue and Athos took a step forward, lifting a hand to rest on the juncture between the boy's neck and shoulder., fingers along his spine and thumb in the hollow of his throat. Not necessarily a threat, simply a warning to dissuade him from talking.

"What happens between our comrades behind closed doors stays there. I do not wish to hear about it. I do not want to examine it or ponder it in any way. Am I making myself clear?"

D'Artagnan swallowed, adam's apple bobbing against Athos' thumb. If he pressed hard enough, and at the right angle there would be no hope of escape.

Realization passed over D'Artagnan's face and his eyes skipped over Athos' face, resting on the cravat once again tied around his own neck before darting away.

"Crystal."

For a brief moment Athos tightened his hold, brushing his thumb down towards the boy's collarbone. If only to watch the way his eyes widened before releasing him. His heart beat a staccato rhythm in his chest. "Good." He stepped back. Hands at his sides. "If they haven't come to their senses before our next assignment then we will intervene. Until then we'll have to trust them to handle themselves."

Athos had complete faith in them.

 

\--

 

In the end Aramis had gone to the one place he still felt was safe.

Being the middle of the week and well into the evening hours he felt confident that no one would discover him for some time yet.

The ringing silence around him was a comfort, The minimal lighting from the candles on the altar a balm to his soul. The unforgiving wood of the pew beneath him a small price to pay for a bit of peace. Here in this house of God he could simply let go.

His faith was something he would always cling to. It had been shaken over the years. Almost broken completely in some moments when the darkness had threatened to swallow him up. One of those moments was upon him again.

It was his own decisions that had led him here and Aramis had no one else to blame but himself.

We could lie to Porthos. He could live to Treville. He could even lie to himself, but he could never lie to the Lord. Fitting that it would be here, in a house of God, that everything would be brought to the light.

Footsteps rang out in the silence and Aramis was grateful for the warning. He knew that despite his size Porthos could move silent as a cat when he wanted to.

"Should have known better than to try and hide from you. You always did seem to know my habits a bit too well."

"Just know you."

Aramis clenched his jaw. The undercurrent of hurt in the man's voice rang hollowly in the vaulted ceilings of the church. He knew his words had hurt his friend but being confronted with it was another story.

"Indeed you do."

Porthos' presence settled in the pew behind him.

Aramis fought the urge to turn, fisting his hands in his lap and bowing his head. He didn't deserve a friend like Porthos. Truly he didn't. Porthos himself would have cuffed him over the head for saying so but it was no less true.

HIs head jerked forward and Aramis realized with a sinking feeling that he must have said that last part out loud.

"Don't sell yourself short Aramis." Porthos said.

Fingers tangled in Aramis' hair and he took note of the fact that Porthos had removed his gloves. An odd thing to notice when those same fingers were tugging at his hair in what he knew was supposed to be a teasing gesture, but only served to twist his stomach into a knot of guilt.

"You always did give yourself far too little credit when it mattered."

 Aramis bit down on a choked sound of grief and tasted blood in his mouth. Porthos was a steady presence behind him. Fingers gentling into a caress through his hair and Aramis selfishly leaned into the touch, taking the warmth and strength he could from the moment before everything came crashing down around his ears.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't keep up the facade anymore. The lie was festering in him like poison and he was choking on it.

When he spoke his voice was as steady as it had ever been, speaking with a calm he did not feel. "I've been lying to you, my friend. As much as it pains me to admit. I have done dishonorably by you."

Porthos' hand slipped to the back of his neck, twitching against bare skin where his fingers had crept under the collar of Aramis' jacket. "Aramis, you don't have to-"

"Let me speak!" His voice rang out like the peal of bells in the silent church. "Please, Porthos. This weight will be the death of me. Just allow me to speak my piece." The breath he drew in was a physical labor. Sweat beading across his brow with the struggle to simply breathe. "Porthos, I... The Queen and I-"

"I know."

Two words spoken so softly that Aramis had barely hear them, and yet his entire being came to an abrupt and violent hault.

"You know..."

The hand against his neck tightened almost imperceptibly, but Aramis was so keyed up, so tuned to the man behind him that even the smallest movement was like a wild gesture.

"This isn't how I wanted to do this, but you wouldn't talk to me."

"You  _know?!"_

Aramis shot to his feet and whirled around, looking directly into Porthos' eyes for the first time in what felt like weeks. There was shame there, and worry, along with something else he didn't even want to consider. Something that sent heat and ice flowing through him in tandem. Steam formed under his skin and rose up into his head to fog over his mind like a mist. His thoughts fled from him like rats from a sinking ship.

"You knew and yet you said nothing. Why?" He needed to understand. Needed something to make sense in a world that had just been turned on its ear.

Porthos clenched his fists on his thighs, looking away from Aramis' gaze. "You didn't want me to know."

Aramis felt wretched. The naked hurt in Porthos' voice stabbing into him like a hot knife. It had never been his intention to cause pain. He'd been trying to the opposite. By not telling Porthos he thought to protect him from harm should the truth ever come to light. He'd already involved Athos and he couldn't live with himself if hi actions condemned another friend along with him.

"So I kept quiet." Porthos continued. "I didn't say anything and I watched you twirl around her like a duckling. You seemed happy and no one knew the real truth so I let you be. But you're not happy now and I got tired of waiting."

There was something Porthos wasn't saying. Something Aramis was missing. He got the feeling it should be obvious and yet he'd somehow missed the point completely.

"Why would you-"

"Don't be thick, Aramis. It doesn't suit you." Porthos smiled at his feet. "You know why."

Aramis' heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

"No."

Not Porthos.

"You cannot."

Not Porthos too. He refused to allow it. He would not see the most loyal friend he'd known fall simply because he gave Aramis something he could never hope to deserve.

"You forget, Aramis." Porthos looked up, eyes so full of love and adoration that Aramis wanted to weep. "I do not need your approval or permission to do anything."

A sob was ripped from him, ringing in his ears as the sound echoed around them. "I refuse to allow it." Panic took hold, his voice rising almost to a shout as his hands gestured madly at the space between them. "I will not be the thing that drags you down. I will not watch you die for a love that spells death for us both! I cannot loose you too. Not when I've already lost everyone else. I've lost my  _son_ Porthos! My s-"

Porthos lunged forward, hands once again in Aramis' hair as he pressed their lips together.

Aramis froze.

His hands halted in mid gesture and his heart seemed to stop cold in his chest. Everything stopped. Until the moment when Porthos began to pull away and suddenly everything was moving far too quickly.

Aramis could see what would happen if he let the man go now. He could see how their roles would play out. Things would go back to the way they had been. He knew in his heart that Porthos would pretend as if nothing had changed. He would give Aramis an escape and they would return to being what they had always been.

That wasn't what he wanted.

Decision made, Aramis clamped his hand down on the back of Porthos' neck and dragged the man's mouth back against his own.

The growl Porthos made against his lips sent a shiver sown his spine and he hauled the other Musketeer closer. Their bodies made a bridge over the back of the pew still between them and Aramis moved to kneel up on the seat, needing to be so much closer.

A hand dropped to his waist, thick fingers splaying over the small of his back while the hand in his hair angled his head to the side to deepen their kiss.

Aramis should have been embarrassed by the sounds being drawn out of him but he was too wrapped up in Porthos to care. Unfortunately the need for air tore them apart. Neither one going very far.

Porthos touched their foreheads together and they breathed the same air. "Loving you is not a death sentence." He said. "And I'm going to prove it to you."

Aramis didn't reply. What would he have said? He just took hold of Porthos' jacket in a white knuckled grip and held on. Even if acknowledging this thing between them was tantamount to courting death Aramis found he was going to do it anyway. He was selfish. If he was going to burn at least it wouldn't be alone. Porthos, perfect, loving, unbelievable Porthos, seemed perfectly content to stay at his side. There was no one else he's rather face the fire with.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! My first Musketeers fic. Who knows if it will be the last. Come say hi on [tumblr](goldtitanium-alloy.tumblr.com) if you've a mind to


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